


Purple Eyes

by Catheeso



Series: Dream SMP [7]
Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Dream Team SMP Setting (Video Blogging RPF), Arson, Betrayal, Big brother Dream, Clay | Dream Angst (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Dream Smp, Dream Team SMP Spoilers, Gen, Good Friend Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Hallucinations, Hurt Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Hybrid Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Major Character Injury, Puffy is Dream’s mom, Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, admins, dream team, follows the entire dream smp, haha im in danger, pog - Freeform, will add more tags as the story continues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-15 05:34:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29308893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catheeso/pseuds/Catheeso
Summary: When Dream was young, he was attacked by a glitch. This changes everything.
Series: Dream SMP [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2089689
Comments: 24
Kudos: 398





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes! it is finally here! like i said in a previous post, this fic isnt my top priority so it wont update as frequent as my other posts, but it will update! it will be covering the entire plot of the dream smp (until recent, that is.)
> 
> i also made an animation for it, which you can check out here: https://youtu.be/ilGLGUPpDDU

“How did you get that scar?” a kid randomly asked him, popping out of nowhere. Dream startled, almost dropping the basket of food he was holding.

The kid was short, shorter than him, and also probably younger than him. Seven, eight years old? He had black hair that was tied back some-what by a white bandana that went across his forehead and brown eyes. His clothes were raggedy, the kind Dream saw on people who lived in the streets.

The kid definitely didn’t belong in the market where Dream was at, with a lot of the vendors shooting the kid dirty looks. The market here was more expensive than the others downtown, especially with the upcoming Summer Festival on the horizon.

“What scar?” Dream asked back, blinking innocently at the kid.

“The scar on your face. It looks badass.”

“I fell,” Dream lied, turning around and continuing on his way. The peaches stand was crowded, as usual, but it’d be better to wait in line than to try again later. He checked the crumpled list in his left hand once more.

Bread? Check. Cheese? Check. Butter? Check. Milk? Check. Pork? Check. Beef? Check. Honey? Check. Peaches? Just up ahead. Fish? Hmm, he still needs to get fish.

The kid was still next to him, walking alongside him. “No you didn’t,” he said, puffing out his cheeks. “You’re a liar.”

Dream stopped and stared at the kid. “Why do you care?”

“It looks badass.”

“It’s just a scar.”

“Yeah, a _cool_ one.”

_Claws flashing across his face, the burning sensation in his veins. The tears had only made the cut hurt more. He couldn’t see anything, he couldn’t feel anything, he couldn’t hear anything. Nothing was real._

“I’m Sapnap, by the way,” the kid said like Dream wasn’t wrapped up in memories threatening to strangle him. “What’s your name?”

“Dream,” he choked out, very aware of how his hands were shaking. Sapnap didn’t seem to notice, though, bouncing on his feet and looking up at Dream with some weird admiration.

The admin turned around sharply and headed towards the peaches stand once more. Sapnap trailed behind him, skipping ever so often to try and keep up with Dream’s fast pace.

The line had dwindled slightly in the time Dream had been talking to Sapnap, and he was internally grateful that it didn’t get longer. It would be sunset soon and then all the stalls would close. His mother had told him to be home as soon as the stalls closed.

“How old are you?” asked Sapnap. Dream kept his gaze focused forward, not looking back at the nosy little kid.

“Ten.”

“I’m eight.”

Dream frowned. “Where are your parents?”

“Where are yours?”

Okay, so the nosy little kid was sassy. He was half tempted to dropkick the pest into the sun or even just into the street. He ignored that thought, though, and instead chose to tug on his green cloak. It was swelteringly hot even though summer was technically coming to an end. The last months of summer were always the hottest.

“Why do they call it the Summer Festival if it’s to celebrate the fall?”

“I dunno,” Dream replied, still tugging at his cloak. One of his ears twitched. “It is the hottest days of the year, I guess. Grown-ups are weird.”

“I think it’s weird,” Sapnap stated firmly. “I’ve only been here for a month, but I think it’s weird.”

“You’ve only been here for a month?” Dream finally turned around to look at him.

Sapnap seemed to realize what he had just admitted and his eyes widened. His expression suddenly looked panicked and Dream found himself confused. Why was he so scared about the fact he had only been here for a month? Orlonda wasn’t that big of a city or that important.

“You won’t tell anyone, right? Promise you won’t tell anyone,” pleaded Sapnap, grabbing Dream’s free hand.

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“They’ll send me away,” Sapnap stage-whispered.

“Send you away?” Dream repeated, dumbfounded. “What do you mean?”

By now they were almost at the front of the peach line, but Dream was more focused on the eight-year-old looking as panicked as one would if they accidentally murdered somebody.

“They always send the new kids away. I don’t wanna be sent away again.”

“What about your parents?”

A silence hung heavy in the air. _Oh._ That’s what Sapnap was talking about.

“I won’t tell anyone,” promised Dream, finally at the front. He didn’t let go of Sapnap’s hand, instead choosing to pull the younger boy closer as he ordered the peaches. He only let go once to get the money his mother had given him, but reached out and grabbed Sapnap’s hand again once the peaches were safely in his basket.

He started to walk towards the docks, but the sun told him he needed to be home soon. He had to go to two different stalls and there just wouldn’t be enough time. Unless...

“Would you go get some fish for me?” Dream nodded towards the closest stall. “Just the salmon.”

“I don’t have any money,” Sapnap answered, staring at the basket full of food then at their intertwined hands.

“I can give you some.”

“What do you want in return? People always want something in return.”

Dream hummed. “Come home with me.”

“What?”

“They won’t send you away if you’re at my house.”

Sapnap blinked owlishly up at him, wonder in his eyes. Like Dream wasn’t real. Dream shifted uncomfortably, feeling the brave feeling fade and be replaced by nervousness.

“Sure! Sure!” Sapnap blurted out, taking the offered money. “I’ll do it!”

The younger rushed over to the stall, waiting patiently in line. Dream wheezed softly before heading over to the stall down further, closer to the edge of the docks. He could hear the water gently lapping at the old boats tied to the pier, the ocean tired after a long day of tumbling. He could see the sun slowly gliding down, the sky starting to be filled with purples and pinks instead of the usual blue.

He paid the vendor the usual amount for three cod.

“Say, where’s your mom, little hybrid?” the vendor asked, his voice raspy with old age.

“At home,” he said.

“Tell ‘er hi for me, got it?”

“Got it.”

The vendor nodded and handed over the three cod. Transaction done.

Dream waited by the steps until Sapnap basically barrelled into him, arms full of salmon.

“I didn’t know how much you wanted,” Sapnap panted, “but you gave me enough for five so I bought five.”

Dream did not need five salmon. He accepted the fish nonetheless and glanced over at the vendor who was looking very happy at her sales. Well, it didn’t matter. They were going home anyway.

(Why did he think that like it was also Sapnap’s home?)

“Grab my hand,” Dream said.

“Why?”

“I don’t wanna lose you in the crowds. Do you wanna get lost in the crowds?”

“No.”

“Then grab my hand.”

The kid grabbed Dream’s hand. Dream pulled him along. The cobblestone streets were starting to get crowded as people walked home from their simple jobs or walked home from the markets. The markets always closed around the same time.

Dream weaved through the crowds with practiced ease, steering into alleyways to get home faster. He had found little shortcuts but his mother never let him use them because dark alleyways were never to be trusted. Or, at least, that’s what she taught him.

But right now he had Sapnap next to him and the kid was in danger of being ‘sent away’. So, shortcuts it was.

He only slowed down when in those alleyways, the closed-in space feeling a lot more natural than the crowds. It wasn’t anything compared to the joy of being in the forest, but it was the closest thing in the city.

“Why do you have your hood up?” Sapnap asked, clearly trying to strike up a conversation.

“It’s more comfortable,” Dream responded, walking through the twisting and narrow alley.

“Is it to hide your cool scar?”

Dream flinched. He didn’t like thinking about the scar. He still had nightmares about the claws, the growling, the static. A purple hue filled his vision and he quickly shook his head to clear it. He still had nightmares about the colour purple.

“You don’t like your scar, do you?” Sapnap asked again, quietly.

“Not really, no.” Dream pulled down his hood anyways.

“I like your ears,” Sapnap said, changing the topic. “What kind of hybrid are you?”

“Sheep, just like my mom.”

“Wow, your mom must be cool.”

He thought of his mom hugging him, comforting him even though he couldn’t see her. “She is.”

Dream’s grip loosened as the cobblestone path turned into a well-worn dirt one, the cottage he lived in just up ahead. He could see his mom standing on the porch, watching the setting sun.

As they neared closer, she looked up.

“Dream!” she smiled warmly. Her smile was somehow always brighter than the sun, always warmer than the hottest days of summer. “Who’s your friend?”

Dream pushed Sapnap forward, allowing his mom to see the younger boy. “His name is Sapnap. He’s nosy.”

“I’m not nosy!” Sapnap protested loudly.

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m not!”

“Can he stay here?” Dream asked his mom, ignoring Sapnap’s splutters. “He’s going to be sent away if he doesn’t.”

“Sent away?” Mom echoed, stepping forward to examine Sapnap’s dirty clothes. “Oh, dear.”

Sapnap shuffled his feet under Mom’s intense gaze.

“Do you not have anywhere to stay the night?” Mom asked softly.

“I have a box. It’s under a roof. I sleep there,” Sapnap answered. That was not the right thing to say because Dream’s mom pursed her lips.

“I’m Puffy, you can stay here tonight.”

“Thank you, Miss Puffy.”

Puffy laughed, “Puffy is just fine.”

“He was following me around like a duckling,” Dream interrupted, pointing at Sapnap accusingly.

“Oh, another duckling?” Puffy raised an eyebrow in amusement. Instead of being annoyed, Dream simply nodded his head.

“Well, come on in,” Puffy said. “I can make extra for dinner.”

Dream looked over at Sapnap and knew he had done the right thing when Sapnap beamed.


	2. Chapter 2

He felt the thin cloth underneath him, the blanket covering his bed well-worn with use and slightly dirty. When had been the last time he washed it? The purple fabric was messed up like it had been haphazardly tossed onto the bed, which it had. He never really bothered to make his bed in the mornings despite his mother telling him to.

He rubbed his thumb over the blanket once more, staring at the purple colour. It seemed to flicker almost, one minute it would be purple the next it would be a void, an empty space where the blanket once was. Maybe it was a void, he didn’t really like the colour purple.

There were many things wrong with the colour. It was an odd mix between red and blue when pink already existed, all the shades seemed the same, and it made everything seem fake.

Purple was the colour of plastic. The colour of something that wasn’t real, something you could never touch. You can’t hold purple in your hands like you could with green or blue or orange.

In his eyes, purple wasn’t a real colour. The scar on his face told him so. The mask on his face told him so.

His skin buzzed uncomfortably as he lifted his hand away from the blanket. Flicker, flicker, flicker; the blanket had the same properties as its colour. One second it’s real, the next it’s not.

Flicker, flicker, flicker. Was his blanket even purple? He couldn’t remember. After what happened, he doesn’t think he would keep a purple blanket. He could’ve sworn it was gree-

That it was-

What colour was his blanket? Purple, surely. After all, that’s what it looked like. Or maybe he didn’t have a blanket.

Dream was sure he had a blanket. But when he reached out to touch it, his fingers felt air. Standing up, quick as a flash, he tried once more.

Flicker, flicker, flicker; the blanket wasn’t there. That’s wasn’t true, though. He could _see_ the blanket in all of its (green?) purple glory, blinking in and out of existence like an annoying lightbulb.

It was as real as his bed, as his floorboards, as his walls, as his house. It was as real as him.

Right?

He doesn’t remember his room being so purple. It’s weird, he can’t remember ever buying so many purple things or painting his walls purple or getting purple floorboards. He tried to rack his brain, trying to think back, but came up blank.

Walls didn’t magically turn purple, did they? His mother said there was always more to learn in the world, but he doesn’t think this is normal. This doesn’t feel like something new to learn, it feels dangerous and like he was playing with the fabric of the universe.

Was he tugging at the threads right now? Was he balancing on a tightrope only he could see, purple fire below him, distorted just like his house and burning so brightly it hurts his eyes?

The floor seemed to become quicksand under his feet, the world swaying with him as he struggled to stay upright. The walls bent unnaturally as if they were trying to grab him, the clock on his wall unintelligible as the hands seemed to melt.

The ticking of the clock was replaced by the buzzing that was under his skin, static filling his ears as he stumbled back and away from the danger. His instincts screamed at him to do something, to run away as fast as possible, to get rid of the potential danger that his own home presented.

Home was a place he was supposed to feel safe in. It was a place where had cuddled with his mother, had played with Sapnap, had baked cookies on Christmas Eve and made Easter eggs on a warm Sunday afternoon.

It was the place where he had lived his entire life, the place where he had first met his uncle, the place where he would wake up every morning and go to sleep every night.

But it didn’t feel like his home, it didn’t feel welcoming. Not with the walls of his room - of the house - closing in on him, making his heart race and his vision blur as his breathing quickens.

_He doesn’t like purple, he doesn’t like purple, he doesn’t like purple, he doesn’t like purple-_

Dream’s running away before he can even think about it, his legs sending him out of his room and down the stairs. He needs to get away, he needs to stop it, he needs to get rid of it.

He shoved the chest near the couch open, his hands shaking so violently they threaten to fall off. He needs to get rid of it. Get rid of the danger. Get rid of the purple walls and purple furniture and purple lights.

Everything’s a different shade even though he’s out of his room. Amethyst, violet, indigo, heliotrope, eggplant, plum. The only thing clear to see, the only thing not blurred and not a weird, unnatural shade, was the flint and steel that rested at the very bottom of the chest, the grey and black a stark contrast to the rest of his vision.

His mom used it to light the fireplace on particularly cold nights and the campfires whenever they went camping. She had shown him how to light it.

“Just in case,” she had said, gently taking it away from him with a wink. “Don’t go around lighting this everywhere, now.”

He had nodded, just excited by his new knowledge. She had made him promise never to light anything without her around because flint and steel was dangerous, the slightest spark setting it off. Most flint and steel was enchanted, including theirs.

Would she be mad if he lit it now? Surely not, the whole house was threatening to strangle him, the walls and floor liquid under his touch, flickering in and out of existence. If he blinked the whole house might disappear.

She was out right now, how would she feel about returning to an empty and burnt house?

The flint and steel was surprisingly cold in his hands. It was solid; it had weight.

It was _real_.

And that tipped him over the edge. Nothing was real except the flint and steel clutched in his hands, the whole house shaking with the weight of this revelation.

It all felt like some bizarre nightmare, a hallucination. Nothing was real. Nothing except himself and the item.

He stared at it for a long second, well aware of the purple walls leaning over him, about to crush him under their size, and quickly made his choice.

He wasn’t going to suffocate in this fake house, he wasn’t going to let the purple world tear into him with it’s sharp claws. He already had one scar from the colour purple.

He won’t have another one. Not when reality feels fake.

Before Dream could fully process what he was doing, he was lighting the flint and steel, a tiny spark flashing until a fire roared to life.

His house had always been made out of wood and brick, most things like the silky curtains and the wooden furniture being flammable. Mom had warned him about the dangers of lighting a flint and steel in a house like theirs.

Maybe their very flammable house came in handy right about then.

The fire, a sharp red and orange, grew bigger, crackling loudly over the static in his ears, the heat making his whole body sweat.

It felt good. It felt real.

He didn’t notice the smoke in the room as the fire grew bigger and bigger, delighted by the feeling of heat. He didn’t notice until he started coughing, the smoke clogging his lungs.

Struck by the sudden realization that he was still inside a burning house, he scrambled away from the flames and towards the front door.

Would the purple door ever open? Or would his hand phase right through the doorknob, blocking his exit and leaving him to burn in the void, a final taunt?

He choked on his own panic, wheezing but in a bad way. Luckily, the doorknob was real (it wasn’t real, it was purple and purple wasn’t real- it was a hallucination, a trick) and he fell onto the green grass outside.

Crawling away from the house some more, he finally turned around. The flames licked at the entire purple blob, destroying everything inside and outside, the smell of burnt wood and smoke so heavy that Dream was practically tasting it. Or maybe he was tasting the ash on his tongue.

There wasn’t any ash on his tongue, though his normally white mask would probably be ashy. His clothes, as well.

But he couldn’t focus on the state of his mask or clothes, all he could focus on was the burning purple building and the feeling of grass under his fingertips. Green, real grass.

The trees in the forest behind the building were green and brown, the sky was blue, the cloud white. There was no purple. No purple except for the building in front of him. Even the fire was normal.

Was he right? Was the building fake? Was it all just a trick of his mind?

He curled up next to the rose bushes and quietly watched his nightmare burn to the ground. The comforting flint and steel now loose in his right hand, no longer needed.

Dream doesn’t know how long he sat there, watching the fire slowly die out, watching the now-normal house tumble into a pile of burnt wood and blackened bricks, inhaling the putrid smoke, but he does know that at one point the house became a _house_ again and the purple disappeared from view, leaving him more breathless than ever.

He could reach out and touch the ruins. His hand wouldn’t fall through, the bricks wouldn’t distort and flicker.

Was the house real all along? How much of what happened was a part of one big hallucination, one big fit of hysteria?

There were footsteps behind him as his head whirled with thoughts and doubts. The person gasped before hurrying over to him, dragging him away from the remains of the house. He initially struggled, fighting back against the hands.

Was this another hallucination? Was this another trick?

His breathing stuttered as he was pulled into a tight hug, finally recognizing the person. _Mom_.

The dam burst and tears flowed freely down his face. His mother slowly, carefully as if she was afraid he might freak out, took his mask off and put it off to the side. His gaze remained focus on the grass behind her as he pressed his face into her shoulder, the green a silent reminder that this was real.

“I couldn’t see it,” he whispered as his entire body trembled under the weight of his actions.

“What?” she asked.

“Th- the house. I couldn’t see it. I couldn’t see the house. I-it was all just purple. It didn’t feel real. Nothing was real.”

The entire experience suddenly felt blurry. It felt as real as the colour he had been seeing. The memory felt untrustworthy. Was that what really happened?

“So you burned it down?” she asked again, her hand smoothing down his messy blond hair.

“I didn’t know what else to do,” he admitted. He bit his lip to keep from crying again.

She started to rock back and forth. He could tell that she was looking at the house still. That only made him hurt worse.

“Mom?”

“Yes, duckling?”

He took a deep breath, “I don’t like the colour purple anymore.”

His mom’s hair still had purple in it. He had helped put it there. When she had asked what colour to dye her hair, just over a year ago, before the glitch, he had told her to do it like a rainbow. She had laughed lightly and agreed.

“That’s okay, that’s okay,” she mumbled.

Mom had told him a couple of days after the accident that his eyes had been purple. That she had freaked out because not only was he bleeding purple, his eyes were an unnatural shade of purple compared to the usual green.

He vaguely wondered if his eyes were still purple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> arson pog. yall hurting yet? :)


	3. Chapter 3

“Your new house is small,” Sapnap said, peering up at him through the tree branches, one hand gripping a stick and the other shading his face from the blinding setting sun.

“Thanks?” Dream replied, it coming out as more of a question. Guilt about the old house still weighs heavy in his heart, guilt that feels like it will never go away. He felt it would’ve been much worse if Sapnap had lived there as well.

Sapnap had lived with them for a couple of months, sharing a room with Dream. It had been weird since Dream had always been an only child. The only other time somebody else was in the house beside him and his mother was when Uncle Schlatt came to visit and even then, those visits were rare.

It had been like having a little sibling. Sapnap, who was eventually revealed to be a blaze hybrid, was a hyperactive ball of energy. He would run through the house, shrieking in delight when Dream would chase after him. Puffy would eventually end up scolding both of them for making such a ruckus, but it was never serious since they would always do it again the next day.

Eventually, though, Puffy met Badboyhalo, more commonly known as Bad. Bad was living nearby with his good friend, Skeppy, and had come asking about the two kids he saw running around in his yard.

Puffy had apologized profusely, saying it was Dream and Sapnap, and the two eventually ended up chatting more and more often.

Dream only caught glimpses of their conversations, but he could always make up an awkward gist: Puffy was struggling.

She only had so much money and she had barely gotten by with just her and Dream. The reason they had lived in such a big house and had enough money to get nice things was because of Dream’s father. He had been fairly well off and when he died (a little bit before Dream was born, it was an accident) he had left the inheritance to Puffy. But that inheritance was starting to dwindle as Puffy needed to provide for two kids now instead of one, and Sapnap needed much more since he had nothing before.

Dream and Sapnap had been at the park playing when Bad had apparently brought up the suggestion. Bad had suggested that he and Skeppy take Sapnap in. They both earned enough money to support Sapnap and would enjoy having a kid. Plus, they lived nearby so Dream and Sapnap could still play together often.

Puffy, trusting Bad and after a long conversation with Dream and Sapnap, agreed. And Dream’s first-ever friend went to go live with somebody else.

“I’ll still get to play with him, right?” Dream had pouted, his ears drooping.

“Of course,” Bad had said, Sapnap gripping his hand. “You can walk right over when you want to hang out with him!”

Both boys had visibly brightened at that and basically, nothing changed.

Until Dream burnt their old house down.

Puffy couldn’t afford a house as big as their old one or as close to Bad’s, so they moved further into the city where the apartments were cheaper. She also started homeschooling Dream to save money on school supplies, so Dream couldn’t see Sapnap at school anymore.

She constantly reassured him that it wasn’t his fault, that he was simply sick and needed some help. Because he was sick, apparently. His mom took him to multiple doctors and admins, trying to figure out what was wrong with him. They always got the same answer.

_”The glitch affected his code, there’s nothing we can do, I’m sorry ma’am.”_

His mother, though, being the determined woman she was, kept trying. She had even called Schlatt and asked him to see if he could do anything.

“You’re sick, huh, squirt?” Schlatt had asked him, ruffling his hair. “Can’t be president if you’re sick.”

“I know that,” he had said back, swinging his legs back and forth from where he sat on the bed. “‘m not sick, though.”

“You’re not?”

“I feel fine, all I did was burn down our house.”

Schlatt had cackled, “that’s what I like to hear!”

According to Puffy, Schlatt was a bad influence. Dream didn’t quite understand, he thought Schlatt was funny.

So, coupled with the very much burnt-down house and meager savings, the new house (apartment) they lived in was quite a bit smaller than they were used to. Puffy was saving up money to get them an actual house, but it would take a while and Dream just turned twelve. She also picked up another job, making Dream feel much worse.

It didn’t help that no one else knew that Dream was the reason their old house was gone. The story Puffy had been telling was that it was an accident. A creeper blew up the part of the house that was flammable and it all went downhill from there. A perfectly believable story. Dream had yet to tell Sapnap the truth.

“It wasn’t a compliment, I don’t think,” Sapnap said, poking the tree with a stick. They had been playing a game where Sapnap was supposed to chase down Dream, but then ten-year-old was too small to climb up the same trees Dream did so he never won. They called it Manhunt. “Could’ve been.”

“Could’ve been?” Dream repeated, swatting at one of the green leaves. The leaf was still wet from when it had rained earlier, the grass still slick. Sapnap hated the rain but it was spring so there wasn’t much either of them could do. It was better than full-on thunderstorms.

“Do you like small houses?” Sapnap asked.

Dream thought back to his old house and then Sapnap’s current house. “No, not really,” he decided. “Plus, my apartment isn’t a house. It’s an _apartment_.”

“You sound so pretentious when you say it like that, Mr. Homeschool.”

“Do you even know what pretentious means, Mr. Public School?”

Sapnap, very intelligently, stuck out his tongue. Dream, being mature, did the same.

“Blah, blah, blah,” Sapnap muttered, still poking the tree. “I’m Dream and I live in a box.”

“Snapmap, you literally lived in a box before I found you.”

Sapnap narrowed his eyes, “call me Snapmap again and we’re gonna have some problems.”

“Brave words for someone who is currently below me.”

Sapnap kicked the tree. The tree, being very sturdy, sturdy enough for a twelve-year-old to scale it without so much as slightly shifting, did not move. Sapnap still glared at the tree like it was supposed to move, though.

“You always win this,” he complained, crossing his arms. “This game isn’t fun if you always win.”

“We could play a different game?” Dream suggested, sitting up and swinging his legs.

“No,” Sapnap said. He was always almost infuriatingly stubborn, refusing to give up. They played Manhunt every day despite the fact that he never seemed to win all because he thought that he would get Dream one day. Dream, being the little shit he was, just kept climbing trees.

“Okay,” Dream said. He did not climb down from the tree even when Sapnap looked up expectantly.

They both stared at each other, neither willing to back down. Finally, Sapnap huffed and looked away for a split second. Just long enough to count in Dream’s book.

“Maybe you should be the hunter,” Sapnap mumbled, probably more to himself than to Dream. But Dream heard and, being the impulsive kid he was, dropped down and proceeded to tackle Sapnap.

The blaze hybrid yelped and started running away, Dream chasing after him.

As the sun sank lower and lower in the sky, the glare becoming harsher and the breezes becoming cooler, Dream and Sapnap raced through the forest. Deeper and deeper they went until the oak and birch trees slowly turned into dark oak, the city behind them fading away and being replaced by brown.

The further in they went the drier the grass got, no longer wet beneath their feet; the tall leaves of the dark oak trees protecting the lush green life on the forest floor from the thunderous rains. Berry bushes were scattered everywhere, but both of them steered clear during the chase. It was common knowledge that the vines on berry bushes hurt anyone who dared to try and pick the bushes’ berries.

The flat grass suddenly dipped into a small hill, an opening in the canopy of leaves leaving the area slick enough with rain to cause both of them to tumble down the hill. It didn’t hurt, the hill was not steep or long, but it was fairly annoying.

Dream immediately sat upright as soon as his body was still, brushing off leaves from his cloak and hair. Sapnap followed suit, wrinkling his nose in annoyance. Their view of the sky was blocked by a big, red mushroom that seemed to tower over them, easily as big as some of the trees.

“You’re in my mushroom patch,” a voice said, sounding mildly miffed.

“Oh, sorry,” Dream apologized naturally before pausing and looking up. Sapnap looked up as well, sharing the same bewildered look on his face.

There- sitting right at the stalk of the mushroom was a boy. He was older than Dream, maybe by two years, and had short brown hair. His eyes were mismatched, one blue and one brown, and there were tiny mushrooms growing out of his hair.

The boy’s entire outfit resembled a mushroom. He had a fluffy red and white cloak, a white t-shirt, brown pants, and red shoes. He looked at the two of them with annoyance but also curiosity, tilting his head slightly.

“Your mushroom patch?” Sapnap repeated. “I didn’t know you could own a mushroom patch.”

“This is hardly a mushroom patch,” Dream pointed out. “It’s just one big mushroom. That’s not a patch.”

The boy sniffed, “well that’s _my_ big mushroom and you two shouldn’t be so close to it.”

“Why not?” asked Sapnap.

“What do you mean?” The boy turned to Sapnap.

“Why can’t we touch it?”

“Because it’s _mine_.”

“But sharing is caring! And we didn’t mean to stumble upon your mushroom, we were running and we fell.”

“Why were you running?”

“Dream-“ Sapnap pointed at Dream- “was chasing me. We were playing Manhunt.”

Instead of looking confused or a little scared or maybe concerned, that made the boy look more curious. He leaned forward, an invitation for Sapnap to continue talking.

“It’s a game where we chase each other down,” Sapnap explained. “When the hunter touches the person running, they win. I never win because Dream climbs trees.”

“Why do you climb trees?” the boy asked Dream.

“Sapnap’s too short to climb the trees I climb,” Dream replied, smug.

“He does look quite small,” the boy agreed. “So your names are Dream and Sapnap? Why is Dream wearing a mask?”

“That’s right!” Sapnap chirped. “What’s yours? Also, Dream wears the mask because I made it.” Sapnap puffed out his chest. “Doesn’t it look cool?”

“Uh, sure.” The boy leaned back, looking very nervous all of the sudden. “My name’s George?”

Dream had a sneaking suspicion that George not only wasn’t human but might have also made up that name on the spot. He wouldn’t voice those suspicions, though, just in case.

Sapnap, on the other hand, totally would and totally was going to.

“You made that name up, didn’t you?” When George didn’t respond, staring at the floor, Sapnap said: “that’s okay! I made up my name, too.”

“You did?” Dream asked. “I didn’t know that.”

“Well, duh. That’s because I didn’t tell you,” Sapnap said. Dream had to resist the urge to smack his friend. “I just thought the name Sapnap sounded cool so that’s my name.”

“Really?” George leaned forward, his expression curious. “That’s cool.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty cool. Unlike Dream who fell down the most obvious hill in existence,” Sapnap smirked.

Dream scoffed, “ _you_ fell down it, not me.”

“Whatever you say, Dreamie.”

“By the way,” Dream said, turning to face George, “how did you even see us? It’s dark out and our clothes blend into the woods.”

George scrunched up his nose, “no they don’t.”

“What do you mean? Of course, they do.”

“Last time I checked, yellow wasn’t the same colour as brown. You might blend into the leaves, but not the tree bark.”

Dream and Sapnap both sat in silence, mulling over George’s words.

“George,” Sapnap said slowly, “Dream’s cloak is green.”

“No, it’s not,” George replied. “His cloak is yellow. I can see it.”

Dream looked down at his obviously green cloak in confusion. Yep, still green. Not yellow. “Are you colourblind?” he asked. “‘Cause, my cloak is definitely green.” He looked over at Sapnap. “It is green, right?”

“No, yeah, it’s green,” Sapnap confirmed. “Definitely green.”

“Colourblind?” George echoed, sounding a little lost. “What does that mean?”

“Oh my gods, he’s an idiot,” Sapnap whispered, looking delighted. “Dream, he’s so stupid. Can we keep him?”

“He’s not a dog, Sapnap,” Dream responded with a frown. George turned to Dream and gave some very convincing puppy-dog eyes. Dream felt his willpower crumble. “...I’ll see if my mom’s willing to take another kid for tonight,” he mumbled.

When Sapnap cheered loudly, he added, “but just for tonight, got it?”

“I’ve never slept in a bed before,” George said sweetly, still keeping the puppy-dog eyes up. “I’ve heard they’re comfortable.”

There was no way Dream was gonna win this.

“Fine, _fine_ ,” he sighed. “Remember, just for tonight. Okay?”

“Okay!” George beamed, seemingly happy his manipulation worked. Sapnap cackled, clapping his hands in victory.

Both Dream and Sapnap stood up and, after a moment of hesitation, so did George. Sapnap grabbed one of George’s hands almost protectively, even though the other boy was most definitely older than him, and tugged him along while Dream led the way back.

The forest was dense and it was hard to retrace their steps, but Dream had some sort of internal compass that always pointed him home. Sapnap and Puffy liked to joke about it, saying that he would never get lost in a crowd because of it.

Behind him, he could hear Sapnap loudly explaining the city to George, who hummed in response to everything. The new kid seemed to be much more interested in the new surroundings than Sapnap’s admittedly exaggerated stories.

The dark oak trees eventually thinned out into oak and birch before disappearing altogether, leaving them in a field. Dream took a right turn and headed straight for the city.

“And there are libraries, you seem like the kind of person to like libraries-“ Sapnap was saying.

“I don’t know what libraries are,” George protested, rubbing his eyes against the onslaught of colour and movement from the city.

“That’s good, keep it that way,” Sapnap nodded firmly, mouth in a tight line. Dream held back a snicker.

The streets weren’t as busy as they normally were, the moon higher in the sky than expected. Dream could already predict the fuss his mother would throw for getting home so late.

George followed dutifully behind, allowing himself to be pulled without any complaints. Okay, that was a lie, he was totally complaining, but he wasn’t struggling. He didn’t even seem particularly nervous. Mostly just curious.

“We’re here,” Dream announced, stopping in front of one of the tall, brown brick buildings that looked to stretch to the heavens themself. The brick was old and rougher, small indents and a couple crumbling. The apartment had been standing for a very long time.

It looked the same as the buildings next to it, not at all unqiue. Dream had personally liked their old house because of how special it looked. No one else had a house that looked liked his. Now, his house was the same as the next house over. Nothing special or unique about it. It was a little disheartening, to be honest.

“Do you think Mom will be okay with me staying the night?” Sapnap asked. The younger had taken to calling Puffy ‘Mom’ just like Dream did, Bad and Skeppy being ‘Dad’ and ‘Pop’ respectively. Dream didn’t do the same, it always feeling awkward in his mouth whenever he thought about saying it.

“You’ve done it before,” Dream shrugged. “The real question is who would you rather get chewed out by, your dads or Mom?”

Sapnap shuddered but didn’t move to leave. George still clutched his hand tightly, eyeing the door like it had purposely wronged him.

Dream took initiative and opened the door, beckoning the other two inside. George was visibly amazed by the inside of the house while Sapnap, who had seen it before, didn’t bat an eye.

“I’m home, Mom!” he called out, biting his lip and waiting for an answer. Almost immediately, there was the sound of shuffling and his mother emerged from the kitchen, pure relief in her gaze and anger buried just underneath.

“Duckling!” she said, half-running closer. She patted him down, looking for any injuries before carefully pulling a twig from his hair. It probably got stuck in there when he fell.

Puffy glanced back behind him, locking eyes with George.

“Dream,” she said, her voice soft, “why did you bring home a forest spirit?”

“You’re a forest spirit?” Dream turned around.

George shuffled his feet, “yeah. A little bit. Are you gonna kick me out?”

“No, of course not,” Puffy quickly assured, patting George on the head. The forest spirit looked up at Puffy with something resembling awe. “You can stay the night, my house is welcome to many.”

“Does that include me?” Sapnap asked, trying and failing miserably to recreate George’s puppy-dog eyes from earlier.

Dream and Puffy laughed in response, already knowing the answer. Sapnap seemed to deflate like he was anticipating his fathers’ rants. George stared at all of them before joining in on the laughter.

Dream finally had another friend, even if he was a weird mushroom boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woooo!!!! george!!!! lets go mushroom boy
> 
> whats that? sorry, cant see canon over how cute kid Dream Team are


End file.
